UNEDITED
Between his semi-committed addiction to smoking and his role as CEO of Elemental Coffee, Cassian Russell has spent the majority of his life running one of the most popular coffee shops on the Island with his best friend, Jake Swift. After a...
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Penelope
The pub I'm at with Gemma and Morgane is hazy and smells of stale booze and deep-fried food. Just like any other pub, pool tables line the far wall and the bar is busy with an abundance of men and women. They fix their gazes on the large screens hanging above. Garlands line the TVs and holly accents them. They laugh over fruity drinks, and heels click against the hardwood. Friends play loud games of pool.
Sighing, I lean my cheek against my fist and pick at the plate of vegetarian nachos. They're delicious, but my appetite is limited tonight. As is my urge for drinking. I've been nursing the same margarita for the past hour. Although I'm present, I'm not mentally here. My mind has been wandering, always jumping back and forth between Patrick and Cassian and my biological parents. I never expected facts and fiction to take such a drastic turn. Now, the water is murky; I can't decipher the difference between lies and the truth. Which is why I can't blame Patrick for needing evidence to back-up Ophelia's words.
The fallout of this mess concerns me. I hope it isn't overwhelming him. Tonight's the night they're ambushing Renée and Doug. Cassian's been keeping me updated on the plan. They're to have dinner at Renée and Doug's house tonight. Ophelia will distract the parents while Patrick and Cassian search for the files.
Cassian.
I suppress a sigh. Putting distance between us has affected me—and it's only been two days. But I have to cut myself some slack. Ever since joining Cassian and Jake's team, I've basically seen Cassian every day. I miss our daily banter and the lingering scent of cigarette smoke. It's faint, never too overpowering, but it's there. It's so... so... Cassian.I miss his crude, immature sense of humour. The twinkle in his brown eyes. His kisses.
My longing to be near him isn't the elephant in the room, though. It's my lack of guilt. I should feel guilty for allowing Cassian to take over. Patrick is my brother, meaning this conversation should've been my responsibility. Not Cassian's. But I've had enough. I'm wishing I'd only met Patrick and coaxed him to join my family. Trying to convince Patrick that Ophelia's words held truth wouldn't have been good for me. Instead of feeling guilty, all I feel is gratitude. I'm grateful I have Cassian.
He's too good for this world, imperfections and all.
Beneath the table, Gemma kicks my shin. I glance at her and the plate of deep-fried pickles in front of her. She's been strict with her diet while pregnant, so she likes to call days like today "cheat" days. I think it's a stupid concept. As long as you eat salty or sugary food in moderation, it's good for you. There's no such thing as "cheat" days. Eat whatever the hell you want to eat—just be careful.
"Cassian will be fine," she repeats.
Next to her, Morgane snorts. She picks at the half-eaten plate of fries. "You're worried about Cassian? That man could charm his way out of any situation." She cocks her head to the side. "Don't feel guilty for wanting to come home, either."
